Sunday, February 28, 2016

Whenever reading the non-Sherlockian short fiction of Arthur
Conan Doyle, I find myself drawn to his more macabre tales. I’m extremely fond
of Lot 249, The Ring of Thoth, and The Leather Funnel, but my favorite has to
be The Case of Lady Sannox. Although it contains no supernatural elements
whatsoever, it is, in my opinion, Doyle’s strongest horror story. This is not a popular selection I fear, as it
has been criticized for harshness and undue cruelty. A Sherlockian friend of
mine expressed some surprise and disgust when I declared my appreciation of the
story. Ronald Pearsall, in his book Conan Doyle: A Biographical Solution goes
so far as to describe it as:

“One of the most unpleasant non-occult nasties…”

A bit extreme in my view, as this is intended to be horror.
And what is horror, if not a sense of loathing and disgust at the exposition of
cruelty that man is capable of inflicting on another. Besides, it is a finely
written horror story at that! If that isn’t enough the story also conjures up
the shade of a classic Sherlock Holmes story, without actually being one. That
is to say that it is a tightly scripted tale that demonstrates Doyle’s deft
handling of his usual themes of sex, jealousy, revenge and horror. Having as it
does, a somewhat Watsonian toned narration, it lacks only the presence of the
great detective himself to fully complete the picture.

If you haven’t read The Case of Lady Sannox I urge you to do
so now, as my review will cover some specific and major story points. If you
haven’t got a copy handy (for shame, as it is has been reprinted numerous
times), you may click here to read it, before continuing.

Just as Sherlock Holmes was heading to a premature demise at
the Reichenbach falls in The Strand magazine, The Case of Lady Sannox saw print
in The Idler magazine for November of 1893. The Idler was similar in structure
to The Strand but designed to reflect the lighter literary tastes of its
editor, Jerome K. Jerome (author of Three Men in a Boat). Conan Doyle was very
much at the height of his popularity and enjoying the literary scene of which
he had become a major part. The circle of writers associated with The Idler
included James Barrie, Robert Barr, Israel Zangwill and of course Doyle’s
friend Jerome himself, to name but a few. Apparently Jerome had suggested to
Doyle that he might like to contribute a series of stories around a central
theme of medicine that could do for The Idler what Holmes had done for The
Strand. Doyle agreed and The Case of Lady Sannox was amongst his submissions.

Oddly enough, considering the criticism leveled against
Sannox, a number of the other stories sent to Jerome for publication were
deemed “too strong” for his readership and were consequently printed elsewhere.
The story was collected, along with 14 others and published in the 1894
collection Round the Red Lamp.

So what is it that makes this story so very pleasing to me?

To begin, we have the writing. Doyle’s ability to involve
the reader is masterfully demonstrated in the wonderfully intriguing hook in
the opening paragraph. We are immediately made aware of “…the notorious Lady
Sannox…” and the exalted social circle to which she belongs. Before we can even
begin to ponder her notoriety we are further informed, “…that the lady had absolutely and for ever
taken the veil, and that the world would see her no more.” All very mysterious,
but made positively compelling when faced with the somehow linked fate of the
celebrated surgeon Douglas Stone.

“…the man of steel nerves, had been found in the morning by
his valet, seated on one side of his bed, smiling pleasantly upon the universe,
with both legs jammed into one side of his breeches and his great brain about
as valuable as a cap full of porridge…”

By the end of the introductory paragraph we have a notorious
woman removed from society and a brilliant surgeon reduced to a gibbering wreck
without any clues as to the hows and whys of it. I defy any reader to put down
the story after reading that remarkable description. The Sherlockian tones
immediately arise, as this smacks of the sort of thing that Watson would read
from the newspapers for Holmes’ benefit. One of those outré little bits that so
captured the detective’s imagination. Considering that this story was written
parallel to The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes it should come as no surprise
that Doyle is at the height of his story-telling ability.

From that amazing hook, Doyle starts setting the stage by
describing his players. He fills in the character of Douglas Stone. He begins
by building-up the surgeon’s success in a glowing Watson-like manner, at times
sounding as though he were describing the detective himself. For instance, we
have:

“…famous as he was…he might have succeeded with even greater
rapidity in any of a dozen lines of life. He could have cut his way to fame as
a soldier, struggled to it as an explorer, bullied for it in the courts, or
built it out of stone and iron as an engineer. He was born to be great, for he
could plan what another man dare not do, and he could do what another man dare
not plan…His nerve, his judgement, his intuition, were things apart.”

Just as we come to think that Stone is a paragon of human
virtue, we are hit with the contrast that “His vices were as magnificent as his
virtues…” with Lady Sannox numbered amongst the former. After elaborating on Stone’s sensualist
nature we learn something of the character and background of Lady Sannox. It is
here that we have the ever-popular and sordid element of sex introduced. Doyle
is surprisingly straightforward, in a distinctly un-Watson-like manner, of
elaborating on her notoriety and her relationships with Stone and her husband.

“She was the loveliest woman in London, and the only one to
him. He was one of the handsomest men in London, but not the only one to her.
She had a liking for new experiences, and was gracious to most men who wooed
her. It may have been cause or it may have been effect that Lord Sannox looked
fifty, though he was but six-and-thirty.”

Doyle then paints a little picture of a drab cuckolded
husband whom at one time demonstrated a fondness for acting, but is now “…happier
with a spud and a watering-can among his orchids and chrysanthemums.” He also
specifies the scale of the scandal, detailing the openly brazen way in which
Stone and Lady Sannox carry on. He finishes populating his story and informs
the reader that the plot in earnest is about to begin.

“There was not an attempt to on either side to conceal their
relations; but there came at last an incident to interrupt them.”

In the very next paragraph we surely drift into Holmes
territory. The next few lines are as Watsonian as any to be found in the Canon.
Although the narration is in the third person, one can almost visualize Watson
sitting at his writing desk, warmly commenting on Holmes activities.

“It was a dismal winter’s night, very cold and gusty, with
the wind whooping in the chimneys and blustering against the window-panes. A
thin spatter of rain tinkled on the glass, with each fresh sough of the gale,
drowning for an instant the dull gurgle and drip from the eaves. Douglas Stone
had finished his dinner, and sat by his fire in the study, a glass of rich port
upon the malachite table at his elbow. As he raised it to his lips, he held it
up against the lamplight, and watched with the eye of a connoisseur the tiny
scales of beeswing which floated in its rich ruby depths. The fire, as it
spurted up, threw fitful lights upon his bald, clear-cut face, with its
widely-opened grey eyes, its thick and yet firm lips, and the deep, square jaw,
which had something Roman in its strength and its animalism. He smiled from time
to time as he nestled back in his luxurious chair. Indeed, he had a right to
feel well pleased, for, against the advice of six colleagues, he had performed
an operation that day of which only two cases were on record, and the result
had been brilliant beyond all expectation. No other man in London would have
had the daring to plan, or the skill to execute, such a heroic measure.”

Substitute Holmes for Stone, a chemical experiment for the
port and a triumph over Scotland Yard detectives rather than medical colleagues,
and you have a fairly distinct facsimile of an extremely typical opening to a
Sherlock Holmes story. The similarity carries even further when in the next
paragraph we have this tranquil scene disturbed by a knock at the door by a
mysterious and distraught client. The client relates a tale of woe and off they
go in a waiting cab. Sounds like Holmes to me! As a matter of fact, although I
have no evidence whatsoever to support the idea, it is no real stretch to
imagine that this story was quickly adapted from an outline or notes that might
once have been earmarked for a now unnecessary Holmes story. At this point, one
assumes that Doyle had already written the detective’s demise, as it would see
print a month later in the Strand.

Humor me for a moment and picture this story in a somewhat
different light and perhaps you’ll see what I mean. Take the “Baker Street
moment” above as the opening. The knock
at the door is not Sannox, rather it is Stone’s valet or some relation that
come to enlist the detectives aide in unraveling the circumstances of Stone’s
madness. The valet relates or Watson reads of the situation as noted in the
newspaper, this is the opening bit about notoriety and brains like a cap full
of porridge. Holmes agrees to do what he can and goes about some off-screen
sleuthing. He comes back with Lord Sannox in tow. Sannox then relates the rest
of the story pretty much as it was published. Holmes then turns him over to the
Police; or some other finish occurs that reinforces the more morally correct
ending that Holmes stories demand. Bingo…a minimum of restructuring with an
additional “detecting” bit and you have a perfectly acceptable Canonical tale,
written at a time when Doyle was creating some of his very best Holmesian work.

Anyway, enough fantasy. Once Doyle has laid the groundwork,
he quickly introduces the fly in the ointment, which shatters Stone’s shallow
existence. Hamil Ali, the Turkish merchant, provides this interesting exotic
element that re-ignites the readers curiosity. Very much a case of “Now where
is this heading?” Of course the reader has already worked out that something
nasty is afoot, and anyone that noted the reference to Lord Sannox’s early
interest in acting has worked out that a grim deception is being played out, but
just how it unfolds is the key to sustaining interest.

And so, for the love of money he permanently disfigures his
lover while her husband looks on, gloating all the while. The cuckold has had
his terrible revenge and the story concludes with a lasting sense of
reprehensible moral ambiguity.

So, how can I justify the sordid and nasty tone?

Well, quite frankly, I don’t find it any more sordid or
nasty than most of Doyle’s other writings that deal with infidelity and
violence. Is this story any worse than many canonical ones? Surely, the grisly
cutting off of the lip is no nastier than the removal, by axe, of an engineer’s
thumb? Or the severing of an unfaithful wife’s ears by her jealous husband? Or
the slow suffocation of an unfaithful butler by his jilted lover? Or the
“accidental” skull crushing death of an abusive husband at the hands of his
wife’s lover? Time and again Doyle meted out equally horrid “justice” to other
characters in other stories yet the accusation of “nastiness” or cruelty is
rarely leveled against them. With the exception of The Engineer’s Thumb, the
others all touch on illicit love, jealousy and to some degree revenge. These
themes are also evident in The New Catacomb and The Winning Shot to add a
couple more non-canonical examples. Of course the subject makes for good drama,
but it still surprises me when I realize just how often Doyle utilized the
theme of infidelity and its effects. Clearly it is a subject that interested
him a good deal.

While Lord Sannox has definitely gone beyond the pale in his
revenge, we cannot but appreciate his cold cunning and method of executing that
revenge. It is a demonstration of the “charm of evil” concept. It is that
principal that makes horrific figures in horror books and films so appealing.
Readers and filmgoers know that Hannibal Lecter is a twisted killer, yet we are
thrilled nonetheless by his gruesome escape from custody in The Silence of the
Lambs. In much the same way, we detest
what Sannox has done, but we have next to no sympathy for his victims either.
Had Doyle made Lady Sannox or Douglas Stone more discreet, or intimated that
Lord Sannox was a particularly abusive or cruel husband, the story would have a
completely different tone.

At the climax, Stone is given an opportunity to redeem himself
in the reader’s eyes. When faced with the drugged woman and her injury, Stone
momentarily hesitates. This gives the reader a chance to exhale and hope that
this shallow surgeon has a vestige of conscience remaining, but the idea is
shattered when he decides that returning the fee would be the result and
proceeds against his better judgement.

Having mentioned films, I’m surprised that The Case of Lady
Sannox has only been dramatized for television on one occasion, as it is a
natural for those half hour Tales of the Unexpected type shows. John Hawksworth
adapted the story for the BBC’s Late Night Horror lineup in 1968. It was broadcast under the rather more
sensational name The Kiss of Blood and starred Diane Cilento as Lady Sannox,
Roy Dotrice as Douglas Stone and Charles Workman as the vengeful Lord Sannox.
(Having never seen this program myself, I’d be pleased to hear from readers
that have.)

In the end, my little Holmesian fantasy aside, all that
matters is that Doyle has told a gripping and clever tale that not only shocks
the reader with a grisly climax, but also exposes the depth of emotion and
horrific deeds that man is capable of when driven by jealousy. In that sense, I
think Doyle achieved precisely what he intended, which was to craft a particularly
effective (and yes, ghastly) little
horror story!

To begin, I must comment on the physical nature of the book
itself. This is a rare and fine example of quality book design. Clearly a good
deal of thought and attention was given to the overall form of this
publication. A rather muted dark blue dustjacket covers a full leatherette
binding with a gilt stamped floral design on the front panel. A very nice touch
when compared to the usual publishers’ output; which generally exhibits the
aesthetic creativity of a, less than well planned, cardboard box! More
importantly the book is bound in such a manner that it can be laid flat without
causing the binding to crack, a necessary feature as the book is over 600 pages
in length and weighs in at about 4 1/2 pounds. I only mention all of this as it
is so rare these days to see such thoughtfulness applied by the publishing
trade. I am genuinely impressed with this Camden House publication, which
incidentally was formed by the author.

The story itself is yet another pastiche that explores the
doings of Sherlock Holmes during that intriguing period known as the Great
Hiatus. Clearly the remarks made by Holmes to Watson, explaining his activities
after his supposed death, offer a great temptation to the writer who wishes to
legitimately place Holmes on foreign soil.

"I travelled for two years in Tibet, therefore, and
amused myself by visiting Lhasa and spending some days with the head Lama. You
may have read of the remarkable explorations of a Norwegian named Sigerson, but
I am sure that it never occurred to you that you were receiving news of your
friend. I then passed through Persia, looked in at Mecca, and paid a short but
interesting visit to the Khalifa at Khartoum, the results of which I have
communicated to the Foreign Office."

- The Empty House

That description is essentially the basis for the current
volume and the forthcoming second volume as well, which is to be published as
The Holmes Report Vol. 2 - The Egypt Question. A second quotation is also a
contributor to the contents of the present volume. It is made by Mycroft
Holmes:

"In the present state of Siam it is most awkward that I
should be away from the office."

- The Adventure of the Bruce-Partington Plans

It is this statement which gives the author (a resident of
Thailand) an excuse to bring Siam into the narrative. A thin reason, but one
that helps to authenticate the major plot points. Happily, it all hangs
together rather well.

The story opens on April 6, 1894, the morning after Colonel
Moran's botched attempt on Holmes' life. A letter is received from Moriarty's
brother and Holmes is called in on a rather too grisly and graphically
presented murder case. In the midst of all this, Mycroft calls Holmes and
Watson in to a meeting. During the course of the meeting, it is revealed that
Sherlock had spent his time during the hiatus, in the service of Her Majesty's
Government, under specific directions from Mycroft. Fortunately for the reader,
Holmes had a companion during his travels who kept extremely detailed journals
of their doings. The companion was the French detective Francois Le Villard,
who is casually mentioned in 'The Sign of Four' as having translated some of
Holmes' monographs into the French language. Mycroft's commission for Watson is
to draft the journals into a cohesive and confidential report for the
Government. Thus the stage is set for the dual narratives that make up the
book. As Holmes investigates the current murder case, Watson reviews Le
Villard's journals. Needless to say, both stories are strongly connected. The
use of Le Villard as companion is a good device. He is presented as talented
young Frenchman with an interest in rock climbing, which is the reasoning for
his being chosen to assist Holmes on his penetration into mountainous Tibet. By
using him as the filter through which we, the readers, view Holmes, the author
has cleverly managed the feat of describing Holmes in uncharacteristic
situations without having to contort Watson's inimitable style. The minor
behavioral differences noticeable in Holmes can be attributed to Le Villard's
observational ability rather than being regarded as deviations from Watson's
own writings, and so manages to maintain a very high degree of credibility.
Incidentally, this is a lesson that more writers of pastiches should learn.

The first third of the book (Part One) deals with our heroes’
journey to and adventures within Tibet, which makes up the first of four
journals written by Le Villard. Much is made of the political 'Great Game',
which is all handled rather convincingly and deals with Russian and Chinese
influence in the region. The tone of the entire book is grounded in this sort
of 'real world' sensibility. It does take away from the usual 'always 1895'
fantasy world that we are all accustomed to, but does make for a more, for lack
of better terms, gritty and realistic read. Unfortunately, the purpose for
visiting Lhasa is thin at best, and doesn't seem worth the trouble. As our
heroes leave Tibet, moving towards Turkistan, they manage to sabotage a Russian
weapons factory and become involved with a great little
save-the-princess-bride-from-slavers scenario. A few minor adventures ensue,
but the first journal ends in the Spring of 1892, just as Holmes and Le Villard
are about to head off to Mecca. The journals continue with the fourth volume, which
takes place in Siam in 1893, leaving a one-year gap, and two missing journals.
The gap is to be filled in the second book of The Holmes Report - The Egypt
Question.

Meanwhile, back in 1894 London, we have Holmes and Watson
pursuing the now escaped Colonel Moran and investigating what appears to be a
resurgence of the Moriarty gang.

The remaining two thirds of the book (Part Two) takes up Le
Villard's fourth journal and the narrative of happenings in Siam. The author
clearly has a strong interest in Siamese history and culture, as he spends much
more time in this setting than in Tibet. A very rich and detailed picture of
the Siamese backdrop is presented to the reader. Much of the political nature
of this section deals with Siam's attempts at maintaining independence in the
face of French and British colonial expansion. The subplots abound here and
became quite complex as Holmes is faced with protecting the Leading Adviser
from assassination threats, the unexpected reappearance of Irene Adler and
Godfrey Norton and Le Villard's romantic entanglements. During all this, Holmes
has time to learn something of the art of Thai boxing (kickboxing) and manages
to get a tattoo as well. Airguns, bombs and a hunt for the Great Mogul diamond
also figure in the narrative. Sounds faintly ridiculous, but the author weaves
it all together in a fairly interesting manner. All this is also tied into the
doings of Moran and a world conspiracy involving the Moriarty gang. At the
centre of all the intrigue is the rather pathetic figure of Godfrey Norton. We
are clearly in deep waters here...

From Siam, Holmes returns to London on the heels of Godfrey
Norton, which brings us full circle to the beginning of the book. At this point all the loose subplots are
drawn together in a somewhat more traditional fashion. Watson is once again the
primary voice and all is revealed…but not by me!

After investing in 603 pages of story, I can say that the
book is a worthwhile read. A very different sort of pastiche that has me
looking forward to the publication of the second book. My only real complaints
are about the previously mentioned lack of good reasoning behind the Tibet
sequences and the somewhat overwritten style of the author. Frankly, a stronger
hand in the editing stage would have been welcome to this reader. Still, a
fantastic book for a first time author, and a wonderful addition to the
pastiche shelf.